


Spots

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Biology, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim discovers another human-Vulcan difference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spots

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon's "Vulcan tongues are rougher than human tongues. At first Jim is surprised, then it turns him on like crazy." prompt on the [Star Trek ID Kink Meme](http://strek-id-kink.livejournal.com/2836.html?thread=1057044#t1057044).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“Strawberries,” Jim says, though Spock didn’t ask. The turbolift doors shut. From the way Spock’s dark eyes are lingering on the red fruit disappearing between Jim’s lips, he’s willing to bet that somehow, some way, Spock spent all that time on Earth and never ate a strawberry. Jim plucks one out of the bowl by the green tufts—a fresh snack, not a Synthesized one—and holds it out. “Try one.” Except he says it in his that’s-an-order,-Commander voice.

Raising one pointed eyebrow, Spock glances down at the tricorder in one hand and PADD in the other. Jim holds the strawberry up higher, right in front of Spock’s mouth, with absolutely no ulterior motives, of course, and says, “Do it the human way, just this once. I won’t tell anyone.”

And by that he means forgo utensils and forgo even fingers. For anyone else, he’s sure Spock wouldn’t bend.

But Spock will do a number of things for Jim that he wouldn’t do for anyone else. He opens his bowed lips and slips them over the point of the fruit, sucking slightly, tongue running down. It catches over two of Jim’s fingers in the process, and a shiver runs up Jim’s spine. Spock’s tongue is rougher than he expected—more textured than a human’s and slightly gravelly. Spock takes a bite of the strawberry, chewing carefully in place, then must decide he likes it, because he takes another. His tongue passes Jim’s fingers again, inconspicuously and enticingly.

If the doors open at any time, Spock will jerk back and go rigid and probably not speak to him for several hours. But the doors open, and Spock finishes the whole strawberry—even the stem, which Jim is too distracted to mention isn’t normally consumed—and pulls back up to his full height. Spock says in his very matter-of-fact, this-is-totally-normal-and-we-didn’t-just-have-one-of-our-vaguely-homoerotic-Kirk/Spock-moments-that-we-always-have way, “Acceptable.”

Jim bends to put the bowl of strawberries on the floor, popping a smaller one into his mouth to chew, then twists the turbolift handle to jam it. They’re half a floor from the bridge, stuck between levels. Spock’s eyebrows knit together. Jim swallows.

Jim stands back in place, acting just as normal as Spock is, and asks, “Vulcan tongues are different than human tongues?”

“As I understand it, they are rougher, although I believe Dr. McCoy could give you a better account of the many biological differences between our species.”

Jim nods. That knowledge shouldn’t be having the effect on him that it is. Any time he thinks of Spock’s differences, his pants get a little tighter. He already knows he has a thing for aliens. He likes licking green skin and grabbing at flicking tails and he wants to trace the tips of Spock’s pointed ears, and now he wants their tongues to fight like their words do. He wants to suck Spock’s tongue into his mouth and push against it and feel it on his skin. When he closes his eyes, he can picture Spock kneeling in front of him, mouth open and tongue hanging out, ready to put it all to good use.

“Captain?”

Jim glances sideways. “Yes, Mr. Spock?”

“Is there any particular reason you have stopped the turbolift?” He leaves off the end part, which his eyes say is, ‘or are you just being an illogical human again?’

“Yes.” Jim turns, takes a step closer, that one step too close, leans into Spock and says, “I’m debating the best way to do this.”

And he slams his mouth into Spock’s, because why the hell was he waiting, anyway? His body presses too close, he slips one leg between Spock’s thighs, and he barely catches the PADD that slips through Spock’s numb fingers. The surprise is holding Spock still, until Jim’s tongue is prying at his lips.

Then Spock’s obliging, opening his and meeting Jim halfway. This has been building for ages, pretense upon pretense upon pretense, any excuse to get closer. Could break at any second. Just did. Jim sucks Spock’s tongue into his mouth and _moans_ , tilting his head to _feel_ as much as possible.

But they’re officers aboard a moving vessel, and when Jim parts for air, Spock breathes, “Captain, perhaps another time...”

“I want to feel that tongue all over my body,” Jim growls. But he knows what Spock means, and he gives Spock another, closed-mouth kiss before stepping back, clearing his throat and tugging his gold shirt back into place.

He picks up his bowl and puts his hand on the transporter handle, giving Spock the I-mean-it,-you’re-mine-the-second-our-shift’s-over-and-not-just-for-chess-this-time look. Spock’s blank faced, though Jim knows him better than that. Jim sees the _fire_ behind those dark eyes.

Then the turbolift’s moving up again, and Jim finishes off the last strawberry.


End file.
